By+WaltHarrington

M y father still looks remarkably like I remember him when I was growing up：hair full，body trim，face tanned，eyes sharp. Whats different is his gentleness and patience. I had remembered neitherasaboy，andIwonderedwhichofushadchanged.

My son Matthew and I had flown to Arizona for a visit，and his 67-year-old grandfather was tuning up his guitar to play for the boy.

My father and I were once at great odds. We went through all theclassicresentfulandrebelliousteenstuff.

When I was a boy，my father wasnt around much. He worked seven days a week as a milkman. But even at work he was the task-master in absentia. Infractions were added up，and at night he dispensedpunishment，thoughrarelybeyondathreateningvoiceora scoldingfinger.

OnedaysomefriendsandIburiedourhighschoolsparkinglot barriersunderthewoodpilefortheannualhomecomingbonfire.

Wehatedthethingsbecausetheykeptusfromleavingschoolin our cars until after the buses had left. I thought the prank was pretty funny，and I mentioned ittomyfather. He didnt think it was funny，andheorderedmetogowithhimtodigthebarriersout.

Can you imagineanythingmorehumiliatingthan thisatage16？ Irefused，andwestoodtoetotoe.Dadwasinarage，andI thoughtfor aninstantthatthetesthadcome.

But then he shook his head and calmly walked away. The next day my friends told me thattheyhadseen himat the bonfire celebration. Hed climbed into the woodpileinfrontof hundredsofkids，pulled out the barriers andleft.Henever mentioned it to me. He still hasnt.

Despite our father-son struggles，I never doubted my fathers love，whichwasourlifelinethroughsomeprettyroughtimes.

He had this way of smiling at me，this way of tossing a backhanded compliment，letting me know he was proud of me and my achievements. He was a rugged teaser，and it was during his teasing that I always sensed his great，unspoken love. When I was older，I would understand that this is how many men show affection without acknowledging vulnerability. And I imitated his way of saying“I love you”by telling him his nose was too big or his ties too ugly.

It was only after having a boy of my own that I began to think a lot about the relationship between fathers and sons， and to see and to understandmyownfatherwithremarkableclarity.

Ifthereisauniversalcomplaintfrommen abouttheir fathers，it is that their dads lacked patience. I remember one rainy day when I was about six and my father was putting a new roof on his mothers house，a dangerous job when its dry，much less wet. I wanted to help. He was impatient and said no. I made a scene and got the only spanking I can recall. He had chuckled at that memory many times overtheyears，butIneversawthehumor.endprint

Only now that Ive struggled to find patience in myself when Matthewinsistshehelpmepaintthehouseor saw down dead treesin thebackyardamIabletoseethatdaythroughmyfatherseyes.

For reasons too profound and too petty to tell，there was a time years ago when my father and I didnt speak or see each other. I finally gave up my stubbornness and visited unexpectedly. For two days we talked，of everything and nothing. Neither mentioned that wehadntseeneachotherinfiveyears.

I left as depressed as Ive ever been，knowing that reconciliation was impossible. Two days later I got the only letter my father ever sent me. Im the writer，hes the milkman. But the letters tone and cadence，its emotion and simplicity might have beenmyown.

“I know that if I had it to do over again，”he wrote，“I would somehow find more time to spend with you. It seems we never realize thisuntilitstoolate.”

All morning I am anxious. Matthew and I are about to leave Arizonafor home，and I am determined to do something I have never done.

So， just before my son and I walk through the gate and onto our plane，I lean over，hug my father and say，“I want you to know that I loveyou.ThatIalwayshave.”

父亲还是我孩提时记得的模样：脸色黑里透红，目光炯炯有神，一头浓发更使他仪表堂堂。不过，他现在比过去温和耐心多了。当初可不。也不知道是谁起了变化，是他还是我？

我和儿子马修乘飞机去亚利桑那州看望父亲，67岁的父亲调好吉他给孙子弹奏。

我和父亲曾格格不入，剑拔弩张。那是成长时期的儿子与父亲常有的“敌对”。

我孩提时父亲常不在家。他是个送奶工，每周工作七天。即便外出，他也是个缺席监工。我们在家犯的错误被一一记着，晚上回家他再找我们算账，但也不过是口头威胁或责骂。

有一次，我和几个朋友把学校停车场的栅栏埋在柴堆里，准备用来烧一年一度的篝火，庆祝返校节。

我们恨这些栅栏，因为它们挡着我们，只有等公共汽车走完之后，我们才能乘自己的车离校。我觉得这恶作剧很好玩，就跟父亲提了此事。可他一点也不觉得好玩，命我立即跟他一块去把栅栏扒出来。

你能想象，对于16岁的我，当时还有比这更丢脸的吗？我当然不干，我们针锋相对。父亲气极了，那一刻，我意识到考验的时刻到了。

可他却摇摇头平静地走了。第二天朋友告诉我，他们在篝火庆祝会上看见我的父亲了。他当着几百个孩子的面爬上柴堆，扒出埋在里面的栅栏后走了。他从来没跟我提及此事，至今没有提过。

尽管我们格格不入，但我从不怀疑父亲很爱我，这便是连接我们的纽带。

父亲从不正面赞扬我，还常常对我冷嘲热讽，但其中透露着对我和我的成功感到骄傲。父亲粗鲁、朴实，爱戏弄人，可我从这戏弄中感受到深厚的父爱。长大了些以后，我开始明白这是男人为避免承认脆弱的表达爱的方式。我也学着他的样，想说“我爱你”时，却说他的鼻子太大或者领带太难看。

我是在有了儿子以后才开始思考父子间的关系，开始深刻理解了自己的父亲。

所有男人都会抱怨自己的父亲缺乏耐心。记得六岁时，一个阴雨天，父亲在给祖母盖屋顶。这活儿晴天干都有危险，何况雨天？我想帮忙，他却极不耐烦地把我推到一边，我不干，结果屁股挨了一顿打。多少年过去了，每想到此事他就窃笑，可我一点不觉得有什么好笑。

如今每当马修吵着要帮我刷墙，帮我锯后院的枯树，我拼命忍住性子时，才明白父亲当年的眼神流露的含义。

几年前因为某些微妙的原因，我和父亲一度不往来了。最终我克服了自己的固执，出其不意去拜访父亲。我们谈了整整两天，似乎什么都谈了，又似乎什么都没谈。谁都没谈我们五年都没见面的事。

离开父亲时我很沮丧，我想，和好如初是不可能的了。两天后我收到父亲给我写的唯一一封信。我是作家，他是送奶工，但他写信的基调、节奏、感情与简洁与我“如出一辙”。

“假如生活重来一次，我会赢得更多的时间让你留在我身边。我们总是在事情无法挽回时才看清真相。”他在信上说。

我和马修准备离开亚利桑那回家了。整整一个早晨我心里七上八下不能平静。我决定做一件从未做过的事情。

带儿子登机之前，我弯下身子，搂着父亲说：“爸爸，我爱你，我一直很爱你。”endprint